


Rooftop Dancing

by wordsliketeeth



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Creampie, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/M, Finger Sucking, Fluff and Humor, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Riding, Rooftop Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Topping from the Bottom, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26600758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsliketeeth/pseuds/wordsliketeeth
Summary: Aomine's features draw tight and his lips part for breath as pleasure overrides his ability to concentrate on his attempts at deception. If you weren't so desperate, you would strip out of your clothes and ride him like the ocean's slack tide. That, however, is for another time, because you can feel the lightning beneath Aomine's skin branch through you in a jolt of anticipation and longing.
Relationships: Aomine Daiki/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 117





	Rooftop Dancing

The sound of your footsteps against concrete and loose asphalt is easily muffled by the warm breeze and the accompaniment of rustling leaves belonging to dogwood and ginkgo trees. Notwithstanding this knowledge and your inherently light footwork, you still gingerly make your way across the rooftop in a series of half-steps.

When you finally reach the Tōō ace, limbs stretched out and body supine, he appears to be fast asleep. His chest rises and falls in perfect rhythm and his eyes are closed, not only for rest but presumably to block out the bright sun that's highlighting his handsome features in its brilliance. He has one arm tucked under his head and the other lies motionless next to a gravure magazine that turns its pages with the wind.

You smile and roll your eyes, trapped between loving the great idiot and finding him absolutely hopeless. You tiptoe around him and carefully lower yourself to your knees, eyes on the shift of his breathing as you reach toward the apex of his trousers.

Aomine groans, mutters something unintelligible and shifts his shoulders before returning to silent stillness. His eyelashes flutter and you're ready to snatch your hand back but then he snores, and it's enough to convince you that he's in a state of suspended consciousness.

You're pleased to find his cardigan already unbuttoned and loose around his frame. It makes for less material in your way, and it takes no effort at all to push the withered edges of his button-down up and over the hard lines of his abdomen. Your knuckles brush against years worth of definition: hard muscle, sinewy tissue, and smooth skin. Aomine's stomach twitches briefly but he remains asleep, and it's a good thing, too, because you've all but run out of patience. You quickly fumble with his belt and free the confines of his button and zip in a matter of seconds, ignoring the hitch of his breathing and the subtle flex of his fingers.

No sooner than you fit your hand into the open v of his trousers, the corner of Aomine's mouth quirks on a smirk, confirming your sudden suspicion. You think about calling off the entire affair but you want this just as much as he does, so you play along with his charade. Though, Aomine's make-believe wears a thin disguise.

You wrap your hand around the base of his cock and begin stroking him to full hardness. It's no surprise that he was already half-hard when you found him. Aomine seems to have the preparedness of a five-star pervert and the misconception that the entire world wants a piece of him.

You observe the weight of his cock in your hand, the warm friction against your palm, and the twitch of his pulse, indicative of his quickening heart rate. You watch a bead of slick form at the head of his cock and chase the slippery fluid with the pad of your thumb. Aomine exhales a soft breath of air that breaks into a low moan, a sound that seems to vibrate through the entire length of his body. You continue to thumb his slit as hang your head over his cock and draw moisture across your tongue. You open your mouth and let a long strand of saliva break between your glossy lips and his flushing hardness.

Aomine's hand curls into a fist and the rate of his breathing hastens. You stroke him several more times, wanting to tease him a bit longer but rapidly losing the bones of your self-control. The fabric between your legs is already damp with arousal, the desire to feel the resistance in your hand spread you open to fullness almost painful.

When you can no longer take the aching need at the apex of your thighs, you straddle Aomine's legs and slip your panties to the side of your wet cunt. You pin your gaze on his face as the head of his cock brushes against your entrance, slick and hot and hard. You shift your weight and use your free hand to press his glans against your clit, hips rocking just enough to coat his cockhead with the glistening sheen of your arousal. His features draw tight and his lips part for breath as pleasure overrides his ability to concentrate on his attempts at deception. If you weren't so desperate, you would strip out of your clothes and ride him like the ocean's slack tide. That, however, is for another time, because you can feel the lightning beneath Aomine's skin branch through you in a jolt of anticipation and longing.

You reach forward and wrap Aomine's tie around your hand, pulling just enough to momentarily choke the air in his lungs. “I know you're awake,” you tell him, lips wrapping around the confession like a velvet rope. Your thighs tense as you lean forward, keeping one hand on his cockhead and the other shifting to the firm resistance of his chest. The slide comes easy and Aomine can't fight the smile that takes over the shape of his lips when the tip of his cock catches at your entrance.

“Oi! Quit playing around,” Aomine chides. “I'm not awake enough to hold back. You keep doing that and I'm gonna bust an early nut.” He reaches out blindly but manages to brace his hands against your hips without fail. His nails graze your skin and a shiver passes down your spine, making you shudder and elicit a low moan.

“That expression is so gross,” you tell him, huffing a breath of laughter. “More importantly, you've never been good at practicing patience, Daiki.” You flatten your palm against his chest and roll your hips to take his length between your slick lips.

“Why bother with patience when I can just take what I want?” he asks, arching his back in a way that deliciously underscores the question. “'Sides, I could smell your pussy as soon as you got up here. You want this just as bad as I do.” Aomine undulates his hips to grind his cock against your sex, his chest reverberating when a silky purr slips up the back of his throat and into the open air.

You rake your nails down the rumpled fabric of his button-down as pleasure cuts through you like the sharp edge of a knife. “You have a filthy mouth, boy.” You wedge a hand between your thighs and get your fingers wet with slick. The touch sends a spark of pleasure through your clit and you feel heat creep into your cheeks at how aroused you are. Notwithstanding your transitory feeling of embarrassment, you continue your original trajectory and paint his lips with your lust. “You should learn how to keep your mouth shut sometimes.”

Aomine's mouth curves on a crooked smile and something dark flickers behind his gaze. He shifts one of the hands at your hip to the delicate bones of your wrist and holds you there, at his lips. “Don't act like you have something against my mouth. You love it when I talk dirty to you.” His syrupy drawl and the low timbre of his voice spread through you like liquid heat and you can't help but suck in a hiss of breath when he takes your wet fingers into his mouth.

“Oh, shut up,” you counter weakly as you grip the base of his cock and lower yourself down on to his impressive girth.

Aomine's teeth catch on your knuckles and you can feel the tremor of a deep groan pass through your fingers as you come together with a single drop of your hips. You inhale a deep breath in an attempt to slow the hammering of your heart while you adjust to the stretch and the burn of Aomine's intrusion.

“And here I thought you were wet by what I licked off your fingers,” Aomine utters in a rasp of saccharine speech and seductive intonation. “I bet I could fit two of me inside of you for how soaked you are right now.” He slides his hands around to your backside and walks his fingers under the pleated edges of your skirt. His nails gently bite into your skin as he tugs you forward, driving himself as deep as your body will allow.

“I bet you'd love that,” you manage, rocking your hips slowly in an effort to meet the hands of sexual gratification. “A threesome, with two of you. You're arrogant enough, that's for sure.” You relocate your hands to the open flection of Aomine's trousers and cling to the material for something to hold onto. You toss your head back and feel the warmth of the sun on your face as you ride Aomine's cock like it's the only thing anchoring you to the ground.

Aomine knits his brows together as he works to meet your downward thrusts. “I don't know about that. That means sharing you and I'm not keen on the idea.”

Your lip springs free from the teeth catching along the bottom line of your mouth and you look down to face him, shaking your head. “That's not true. You'd give anything for me to be with another girl.”

Aomine moves a hand to the front of your skirt and flips it up for you to hold. It's an act of wordless communication and you briefly wonder when you got so good at understanding him. You catch the fabric just before it caves to gravity and without the obstruction, Aomine begins to lazily circle your clit with his thumb.

“That's not the same as sharing you with another guy. Girls are different,” Aomine says, squeezing your ass once before shifting to prop himself up on the bend of his elbow. “You wouldn't want me with another girl, would you?”

You involuntarily hasten your movements and take Aomine's wrist in your hand to encourage his idle ministrations. “We're not talking about another guy, though. We're talking about _you_.” You feel your body shift and the flush warming the contours of your cheeks begins to spread due to the sounds emanating from where your bodies are joined. “For what it's worth, I wouldn't want to be with another guy anyway.”

Aomine fucks up into you and his thumb slides away from your clit, only to be replaced by two fingers instead. “I think it'd be weird, though. If I wanted to watch myself fuck you, I'd just bend you over in front of a mirror. You, on the other hand, if you had a twin...”

“That's incest, and no, I'm not nearly as narcissistic as you are. It would... _oh fuck_...never work.” You slide a hand through the fall of your hair and feel your crowning point draw nearer. Despite the heat cresting in your veins and the thrum of pleasure pulsing through your core, you ask Aomine a weighty question: “Would you ever be with another girl?”

“Fuck yeah,” Aomine answers with more breath than articulation.

“Daiki!” you screech, his name sharp on your tongue like a disgrace that can't be wiped from your lips.

“With your consent!” he supplements quickly, laughing. “Don't get the wrong idea, especially when you're gripping my cock like a vice.”

“You're the worst,” you tell him, reaching out to pinch his left nipple between your fingers. “I guess now's a good time to tell you that I've fantasized about you and Kagami being together.”

Even in your state of heightened arousal, you wish you had a camera for the expression that delineates Aomine's features. If horror, shock, and outrage were painted in a triptych then Aomine would be drawn boldly in its center.

“You're gonna make me go soft if you talk like that,” Aomine says, irritation carved into the hollows of his tone.

“Oh, I highly doubt that.” You contract your inner muscles and Aomine issues a sound akin to a purr. “You're a helpless mutt when it comes to this pussy.”

Aomine arches an eyebrow and you catch a wicked gleam in his eye just before he draws his hand away from your clit. “I guess you should have made sure I had my shots then, baby, because this dog has bite,” he says, wetting his lips with a single swipe of his tongue. “You can finish yourself off while I watch.”

You thrust your bottom lip out in a pout but do as you're told, fingers working smoothly over your clit as you continue to ride his— _still very hard_ —cock. “You're so mean to me,” you sulk. Though, it's difficult with the way Aomine's cock is moving inside of you, glancing all the right places and making you break into a sweat.

“You dug your own grave, kitten. Don't go blaming me.” Aomine folds his arms behind his head to give himself height and watches your fingers as you work to pleasure yourself. “You're lucky I'm letting you come at all.”

Now it's your turn to raise an eyebrow. “Oh, am I?” you ask loftily. “You think you're in charge of that now too, do you?”

Aomine shifts his gaze to your face and watches you with an expression imitative of boredom, and if you didn't know him better, you just might believe it to be true. Then his mouth bends on a smile, the whites of his teeth catching in the sun. “Come for me,” he says, purring the command like a king upon his throne.

You frame your lips on protest but the words of your dissent stick to the roof of your mouth. Then, suddenly, you're coming undone like the threads on your favorite sweater. You feel like you're sinking out in the middle of the sea, buried so deep that you can feel the water table line beneath your feet. Your limbs draw tight and your breath catches in your lungs, your hands begin to shake and your heart feels as if it's going to beat right out of your chest. You close your fingers on Aomine's shirt and clutch at the fabric as his eyes flicker like the sharp steel of a sword.

When you're cognizant enough to feel the breeze comb through your hair and cool the fine sheen of sweat on your skin, you realize that somewhere between your climax and the present moment, Aomine capitulated inside of you. His face has lost most of its hard edges and there's contentment written across his heat-glazed stare.

“You're an asshole,” you manage, but there's no venom to your sting, and you both know that it would take a lot more to push you to the boundaries of your mutual interest than anything that recently took place.

“You knew that,” Aomine drawls sleepily. He reaches out and takes you by the forearm, drawing you forward until you're stretched out across his body. “Yet, you still came up here intending to jerk me off.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you say as if it adds any weight to your current situation. You glance up at Aomine and begin tracing the outlines of his mouth with the tip of your finger. “Why come up here if you're not _actually_ going to sleep?”

“I usually do,” Aomine answers, snatching your wrist with speed comparable to his skill on the court. He takes your index finger into his mouth and nips on the creased flesh above your knuckle.

“So why not today?” you ask, lowering your head to Aomine's chest.

He pulls you closer to his body and you fold under the weight of his arm as it bends around your shoulders. He draws your finger away from his lips and flicks the tip of his tongue out against its tip. “Let's just call it intuition,” he answers.

There's a moment of silence between you, and just when you think that he's fallen asleep, you hear the resonant hum of his voice. “You're free to surprise me whenever you want, but the next time you show up unannounced, I expect you to have your tits on display.” Next, he pauses as if having a personal debate, then says: “Some crotchless panties wouldn't hurt either.”

“I'll show up in crotchless underwear when you start wearing a thong,” you mumble, the steady thrum of Aomine's heartbeat lulling you slowly to sleep.

“I'm not Kise!” he counters. A huff of breath stirs the hairs at the top of your head and you can hear Aomine click his tongue against the roof of his mouth in disapproval. “Don't tell me that you've been fantasizing about him too.”

You emit a weak chuckle and aimlessly feel for Aomine's mouth, your middle finger poking him in the nose before you successfully clamp your hand over his lips. “Just stop talking.” You keep your palm pressed against his mouth but you can feel the shift of verbal formulation beneath your skin. You exhale a sigh and work your limbs into a more comfortable position. “Daiki, whose come is sticking to my thighs? If I wanted to be with Kise, I wouldn't be here with you. For someone with such a big ego, you sure have a lot of insecurities,” you tease, smiling when you feel his cock twitch and his body tense. “Now go to sleep so you can put that fat head to good use when we wake up.”

Aomine's lips curve into a smile against your palm and your heart skips a beat because he has limits to how much you can get away with, and when you overstep those bounds, the sex goes from incredible to mind-blowing. For all that Aomine likes having his cock sucked, you love having your mind blown—it's a battle of wits, after all, and you're more than ready to outsmart this dirty dog.

On the other hand, a pair of crotchless panties doesn't seem like a bad idea...

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
